


Empty Spaces

by Ischa



Category: Bandom, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-15
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roughly five years in Show Pony's life. From his first love at 14, over his vow to never fall in love again to meeting Party Poison and then some more.</p><p><i>“So, I hear you like words?” Poison asks out of the blue. Pony gives D a betrayed look. D has to fucking know that Pony isn't keen on being friends with Poison. He isn't even keen on pretending to be civil for god's sake! </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Spaces

**Title:** Empty Spaces  
 **Pairing:** Show Pony/Hayley, Show Pony/Party Poison UST, implied various Killjoys pairings  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Summary:** Roughly five years in Show Pony's life. From his first love at 14, over his vow to never fall in love again to meeting Party Poison and then some more.  
 _“So, I hear you like words?” Poison asks out of the blue. Pony gives D a betrayed look. D has to fucking know that Pony isn't keen on being friends with Poison. He isn't even keen on pretending to be civil for god's sake!_  
 **Warning(s):** violence, mentions of sex  
 **Author’s Notes:** This story has a prequel ficlet I wrote for turps33's kissing meme. [Here](http://turps33.livejournal.com/1114666.html?thread=20038954#t20038954). Quotes used: Linking Park from the album 'A thousand suns'.  
 **Word Count:** 8.840  
 **Beta:** stones_at_moons  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\---

Part I: _Got everything outta control_

 _Fire on the way / make you all say whoa  
The people up top and the people down low  
Get down  
And I’m running it like that  
The front of the attack is exactly where I’m at _

~+~  
Someone once told him that guns used to make a distinct sound when they unloaded. A lot of people talk a lot of shit when there’s nothing else to do (or they're drunk). And on some days there really isn't anything to do. Pony sighs and stares at the endless (fucking endless) horizon. This, he thinks, this is one of those days.

He sketches something into the sand with a stick and waits. The desert is endless and a death-trap – or that's what Doctor D says. Pony doesn't believe everything Doctor D says these days. He used to when he was a kid, but he’s not a kid anymore, and he's also sure Doctor D would disagree on that point with him – loudly and maybe by quoting some dead singer.

~+~  
He is running an errant for Doctor D (not true, he's back on his way home – wherever that is right now) when he meets her. She is spraying something onto a rock. It's loud and purple – violent. It screams RIOT. He stops and watches her for a second before she turns around, spray-can in one hand, a raygun in the other. He has no doubt she knows how that thing works.

“Hey,” he says, carefully.

She smiles, raygun pointed at his chest. “What the hell are you doing here, kid?”

He’s sure she isn't much older than him. “I'm not a kid,” he answers and doesn't tell her that he's working for/with Doctor D. Everyone seems to want a piece of Doctor D. He isn’t going to make it easy for these fuckers.

“Sure, doesn't answer my question.”

“On my way back home,” he says. Something passes over her face really fast. Too fast to make any sense of it.

“Hurry along then before someone eats you alive,” she answers, waving the raygun in a dismissive manor.

He nods and she nods back.

~+~  
He’s thinking about her wild, violent red hair the whole evening. Doctor D gives him a look, but doesn't say anything. He is on edge. Pony knows him long enough to know his moods. Something big is happening and Doctor D isn't sure he likes it. Pony has no idea what the hell might be going down, because Doctor D still thinks of him as a kid. He's fourteen for god's sake and he wants sometimes to scream it in D's face. Really loud. He is _not_ the four year orphan that Doctor D picked up and never could get rid of anymore. Not that he didn't try, Pony thinks fondly.

Doctor D gives him another look over the dinner he didn't even touch yet. Pony sighs and pushes it away.

“I don't want to hear it,” D says. He says it like he knows suddenly exactly what the hell is wrong with Pony. Pony knows he looks irritated right now. He is irritated right now.

“You don't know everything,” he answers.

D smiles. “Maybe, but for you I'm still Yoda.”

“I don't get it...” Pony says, shaking his head.

“Finish your dinner and go to bed,” Doctor D replies, exasperated.

Pony does.

~+~  
He thinks about her during the night as well. He really wants to see her again. Wants to know her name at least. He supposes he could have asked for a name...but somehow he doesn't want to. He isn't even sure D knows her anyway. Doctor D knows a lot of people, but not everyone. No one knows everyone. A girl like her can't be important anyway. Just a stray, like him...

~+~  
“Hey kid,” she says and he turns around on his skates to look in her direction.

“My name's Show Pony,” he answers.

She laughs. Loud and clear. It seems out of place in the desert, but then everything seems out of place in the desert. They seem out of place.

“Hayley,” she says with a nod. Her red, red hair is a messy ponytail the wind plays with. Sand and small stones hitting their skin softly. She doesn't seem bothered. A sand-rat then, just like him.

“What you're doing here?” he wants to know. He really doesn't want to sound like an asshole, but the thing is that you can't even trust the sand-rats. You can't trust anyone. And everything about her screams SUSPICIOUS!

“Taking a walk...” she says, her head cocked. She looks pretty like that. She smiles again. “You on your way home?”

“Yes...” he answers carefully.

“You maybe shouldn't take that road? If you can avoid it...” she says, winking at him and then she just walks away. He wants to follow her, but then he hears the detonation. It's close, he can feel it. Can feel the ground shake. Pony stars at her back and just breathes.

~+~  
“There was an explosion...” he says when he enters their home of the week.

Doctor D gives him a look. “I know.”

“I'm okay.”

“I know,” Doctor D answers. There is hot tea on the counter. The good stuff, the kind he didn't think they still have.

Pony smiles. “Thanks.”

“What for?” D asks.

Pony shakes his head. He knows Doctor Death Defying. He didn't maybe want to be the one to raise a kid – let alone Pony – but he thinks that Doctor D did a good job so far. “Nothing.”

“Make some tea and look this over for me.”

Pony nods.

~+~  
Hayley is a pretty random name. A pretty normal name. A pretty name, he thinks. He writes it into the sand with a stick while Doctor D is broadcasting the revolution. He never has anything to do while D is broadcasting. He is only there to drive the car and get stuff into the van and get in and out of places, because he's so skinny and no one bothers with a kid. Usually that is. He wonders what Hayley is doing and where she is.

~+~  
They run into each other after another explosion. Pony only heard that one, saw a bit of dust and fire, didn't feel it. Her bike stops too close to his skates and she takes her helmet off.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“I'm always where the action is,” he answers.

She smiles. “I like that in a guy:”

~+~  
They end up sitting in the shadow of a rock, leaning against its warm surface. Her bike close by. Just talking.

“So...you into music?” he asks. He knows more about music than most people, because he was raised by Doctor D. He still hopes she knows at least a bit about it.

“I am in fact. Wretches and Kings keeps me sane,” she answers and he cocks his head. He doesn't think he knows it.

“Is is a band or a song?” he asks.

She gasps and clutches her heart. “I can't believe you asked that...” her voice is breathy and he kind of wants to lean into her. Erase the space between them.

“You can't know everything,” he answers shrugging.

She nods. “I’ll get it for you,” she says, standing up. She makes a half-hearted attempt to get the dust and sand from her clothes and then just grins down at him. “See you around.”

He nods and thinks that it sounds like a promise or a treat.

~+~  
Doctor D doesn't ask a lot of questions. He knows he raised Pony to be able to take care of himself if he should need to. So it's a bit of a surprise when he actually asks a question.

“Who are you spending your time with?”

Pony doesn't look at him. “A girl I met a while ago...”

D nods. “She safe?”

Pony shrugs. “Who the fuck is in the zones?” he asks back.

Doctor D laughs. “Let me rephrase: How crazy from one to ten is she?”

“One is you and ten is...let's say...” he cocks his head and thinks.

“Someone who blows shit up just for the fun of it,” Doctor D supplies.

“A two, maybe? She sprays graffiti on rocks?”

“An artist then...” D says.

“She does words.”

“Still an artist. Words are dangerous too. They’re gasoline if you know how to use them,” D says. He sounds a bit wistful. Like he misses something. But then everyone who wasn't born in the zones misses something. Sometimes he's sure kids in Battery City miss something as well, they just don't know why or how, or if... when he's honest. He waist D out. “Just try not to get too involved...”

“Are we leaving?”

“Aren't we always?” D asks.

~+~  
The truth is, he’s in too deep already. And he knows Hayley is too. She ties her hair back and looks at him. Her lips are swollen and her clothes rumpled. He did that. He loves doing that.

“Have to go. See you tomorrow? Same time, same place?”

“We're leaving,” he says.

“When?” she wants to know. Her hands on her hips.

“Soon I think.”

“He doesn't tell you much, your father, does he?”

“He's not...no he doesn't,” he settles on. He didn't tell her with whom he's running. He never tells anyone. It's safer this way.

“You want to come with me?” she asks suddenly.

“Where?”

She bites her lip. “We could just...”

“Run?” he supplies.

She laughs. “No, fuck no. It would be stupid....” she bites her lip again and he gets up and pulls her by her shirt so they are close again. He can feel her breath on his skin and she smiles, leaning in and kissing him again. “No...” she repeats.

~+~  
Pony isn’t stupid, or naïve. He knows Hayley has a secret, but it’s a common thing in the zones: Everyone has at least one secret. Pony has a huge fucking one. Doctor D has more than one. For one: he’s Doctor Death Defying, for the other he has a kid. Pony knows how that can be used against someone. He isn’t sure Doctor D wouldn’t leave his sorry ass for the greater good. He hopes not, but you can never be sure.

Pony takes a minute to think and doesn’t like the picture he’s getting. Every time (nearly every time) he meets her, shit blows up somewhere. And D was talking with people about a group of terrorists. Blowing shit up no matter what. Doctor D is pissed off about it, because they also blow stuff up people in the zones could need. Are needing.

Pony knows it’s not a good idea to piss of Doctor D, he himself might not be able to do much, true, but he has _connections_. People D trusts with his life, even if he doesn’t trust them with Pony’s…Maybe, Pony thinks, maybe Doctor D wouldn’t leave him for the wolves after all.

~+~  
Hayley brings him a record of Wretches and Kings the next time. She just hands it over without so much as a shrug. He puts it away carefully and grabs her shirt to pull her close. She feels warm, she always does. And she smells like paint and dust and something fruity he can’t place.

He doesn’t bring up what he knows about her and the people she’s with. Their time is too precious to waste it with this and he is sure (he doesn’t have much experience, she’s the first one he ever made out with) that it would lead to an epic fight. He doesn’t want her to ever leave.

That evening she loses her shirt and he does as well and her breasts against his skin feel amazing. They feel warm and soft in his hands and she makes theses _noises_ and pushes closer like she can’t help it at all. He thinks he might love her.

~+~  
Doctor D is on edge. Pony knows that’s not good, not good at all. They’ll leave soon, they always do when things seem to get out of hand or just worse. He doesn’t want to. There is no way he can keep Hayley close when he doesn’t even know where he’ll sleep the next night.

It’s foolish, he knows that, but it doesn’t help him in the slightest. He doesn’t want to leave. And however stupid it is he envies the kids in Battery City that don’t have to run. Some do anyway. To the desert and think that life there (here) would be better. It’s life, Pony thinks, he doesn’t know if it’s better. Maybe if you are a free spirit, maybe then. But it’s hard as hell when you weren’t born in the zones.

A lot of people don’t make it or go back. Resistance, Pony learned, is a battle for survival.  
He can’t remember life before he met Doctor D, or to be correct on that one, before Doctor D took him in. Pony knows he did have another name back then, he can’t remember, but he knows, because everyone had another name back then (everyone who wasn’t born in the zones). He remembers that he wasn’t even afraid of Doctor D or the woman that was with him. She let him touch the pictures on her skin. He liked her…he never saw her again. D doesn’t talk about it. But then D has worse problems. People who blow shit up. It will get all of the zone runners into trouble. Pony is sure D is planning already how to stop them. And D isn’t one for violence as the one and only option, but he isn’t fuzzy about it either. Shit that needs to be done, needs to be done. Pony grew up with that motto of D’s. It was mostly about cleaning and dishes back then, but it isn’t now.

~+~  
“You’re blowing shit up,” he says and she pushes his hand away. Maybe he should have waited for after they got each other off. Too late now.

“Yeah, we do,” she says, biting her lip. Her hair is a mess that obscures half her face and she has a fresh bruise on her knee and something that will be a scar soon enough on her left elbow.

“You blow shit up that people need here,” he continues.

She looks at him angrily. He knows she can’t help it, that’s what she’s used to. You live what you’ve learned. “They need to get their asses into gear and storm the fucking city.”

“It doesn’t work like that, and you know it.”

“But it could. It will when there is nothing left here. In the zones,” she says.

Pony shakes his head. “You want back. You want to bring the city down, but you want to live there…” he realises.

She nods as if that weren’t the most insane thing. Maybe it isn’t. Pony saw a fair share of insane things. “They’ll kill you all.” And he doesn’t only mean the Dracs or the exterminators. He means the zone runners as well.

“We all die someday,” she answers, shrugging. He grabs her hand on impulse. She looks at him, her eyes hard. She seems so much older than him and he knows she’s not. She has only two years ahead of him.

“I don’t want you to die,” he says softly, his voice firm and earnest.

She smiles. “I know.”

“But you’re not gonna stop.” It’s not a question.

She shakes her head anyway. “No.”

~+~  
“I don’t want to be a part of this one,” Pony says into the room and everyone looks up. D nods once and doesn’t ask why. Pony isn’t stupid enough to think that he could warn her or the people she’s with. He can’t. He wouldn't, what she's doing isn't right – no matter the reasons. He tried talking, but she’s not going to take the easy way out. She learned to die fighting.

Pony (and he is fiercely glad for that) learned to survive fighting.

~+~  
Every zone runner is a terrorist. It's the simple truth. Every group that goes against the government in a violent fashion is. They all are. But outlaws don't live without law. That's another thing every child in the desert knows. There aren't many rules out here, only the few common sense dictates. Most people are okay with them. It's still more of a life than it is in the city. Or that's the tale people like to tell – mostly those who run away and then stick around.

~+~  
Doctor D doesn't tell him when or where. It's not because he doesn't trust Pony, Pony knows that. It has a million reasons. Mainly, and Pony is sure of that one, that he doesn't want Pony to get hurt. Pony isn't sure D realises that it's far too late for that.

~+~  
He curls up on the floor of the van and closes his eyes. He put Wretches and Kings in the player as soon as everyone was gone and it drowns every other noise out. He turned up the headphones real loud. It's what you do with these kind of songs and in these kinds of situations.

He doesn't know what will happen to her. It doesn't even matter if she gets away. She won't stop and one day someone will stop her.

Besides Pony is pretty sure she'll never talk to him again anyway. He didn't tell anyone, because he didn't need to, but who knows if she would believe it? He never told her who he was. With whom he runs, who raised him. She never asked.

~+~  
D makes him tea the next morning (the good stuff) and gives him a look. Pony shakes his head. He takes the tea and stares into the mug. He has reached a conclusion, made a decision last night while he was listing for hours to the one song that shaped her life. That was what she was feeling all the time underneath all the other stuff. That was the core, is the core if she got away. He made a choice.

“I'm never going to love anyone again” he says looking D into the eyes.

“Listen...” D begins.

“No, you listen. I'm not. From this point on I will never ever fall for anyone. Never.”

“You can't decide that.”

“I can. I can stay away. I cannot get attached; I can leave out the feelings because it hurts too fucking much when they leave you.”

D looks sad for a moment. Pony isn't sure if it's for Pony or for himself. He and D aren't talking about their pasts. It's not like they can do anything about it anyway. It's the fucking past. What counts is what they lived trough. What they survived. Pony was raised to be a fighter, but he was also raised to be a survivor. That's his way of surviving.

Doctor D nods once sharply as if he understands. “Okay.”

“It doesn't mean...” he takes a deep breath and doesn't look at D when he continues, “I can't unlove. You know?”

“I know.”

Pony nods. Once, sharply. He never told D that he loves him like the father he doesn't remember, but he is sure D knows anyway.

 

Part II: _So I'm picking up the pieces, now where to begin. The hardest part of ending is starting again._

 _What was left when that fire was gone  
I thought it felt right but that right was wrong  
All caught up in the eye of the storm  
And trying to figure out what it's like moving on _

~+~  
Pony is nearly 16 when he hears about the Killjoys for the first time. There are three months left to his birthday and Doctor D is on the fence about that particular merry group of outlaws. They aren’t blowing shit up – not just for the sake of blowing shit up, D says. And a few zone runners let slip that one or the other of the Killjoys saved their life or that of a child. When in doubt the Killjoys seem to always go for the children first.

Pony scoffs in his head. There is no better way to get all the sympathy votes than saving fucking children. Besides children in the zones shouldn't need any saving, because they're raised to be tough. What the hell, he thinks, but doesn't voice any of this to D. D has bigger problems than that.

~+~  
There was a raid gone horribly wrong a few days ago and now D is questioning people. No one knows D is Doctor Death Defying here – he's just a guy in a wheelchair that wants to know what the fuck went wrong. He doesn’t brag. Would be stupid as everyone wants a piece of him. But he wouldn’t let Pony go on his own either. Pony was kind of pissed, because he is nearly 16 goddamit.  
It’s so not fair that D still treats him like a fucking child.

He sulks in the corner of the diner they’re in and doesn’t pay attention, or tries not to. A few girls maybe his age are talking all excitedly about The Killjoys. Pony can hear the capitals in that and doesn’t roll his eyes. Girls, honestly. As if there weren’t bigger things to deal with.

One of the girls is composing a poem for Party Poison – and honestly what kind of lame name is that anyway?

“And I love his hair, it looks badass!” one of the other girls say.

“I think it looks like a bloody veil…”another throws in.

Bloody veil, really? Pony shakes his head and gets up. Trust people to be romantic or stupid (it always is a matter of perspective) in the face of danger and death.

~+~  
“So, what do you think?” he asks D a few days later when they’re back again.

“About what?”

Pony rolls his eyes. “About the fucking Killjoys of course. Everyone is talking about them. They came out of nowhere and now they’re…doing …” he waves his hand, because he doesn’t have the words right now.

“The good deed?” D supplies, amusement lacing his voice. Pony nods. He takes a sip of tea (not the good stuff) and Pony waits. Obviously D will talk about it when he’s ready. “Don’t know kid, the thing is that they came out of nowhere. No one knows them and no one should trust them, but they didn’t do anything to deserve mistrust either…”

“Except coming out of nowhere,” Pony states.

D nods. “Exactly.”

“You think they’re from Battery City, don’t you?” Pony asks. He was thinking about this and it makes a certain amount of sense. Even if no one saw their faces yet, because they’re wearing helmets and masks, someone would have known something about three guys raising a bit of hell. You’re usually building up to such a kind of thing.

“Yeah, I do. Runaways.”

“Well prepared and fucking fierce runaways. Most of the runaways don’t want to raise hell once they're outside. They want to live their lives in peace or what passes for it these days in the zones,” Pony answers.

D looks sharply at him. “You’ve grown up,” he says.

“Telling you for years now,” Pony replies, shrugging.

D smiles. “All kids do. All the time.”

Pony rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his tea. It’s lukewarm and he has no idea what flavour it’s supposed to be, but hey…it’s not like he doesn’t know life in the zones is hard.

“I’m not all kids,” he says.

“No, you’re not,” D answers, but doesn’t elaborate. Sometimes with D it's better not knowing.

~+~  
“Now they’re the Fabulous Killjoys,” D says with amusement in his voice. Pony thinks that he isn’t on the fence about the Killjoys anymore. He is so totally in the ‘TEAM KILLJOYS’ camp. Pony can’t really blame him. Since the Killjoys started shit they did a lot of good and maybe Doctor D is a bit touched they sent him a few rare records. It’s one way to get D’s attention, winning his affection is a whole other deal.

He knows. From experience.

“I can hear the capitals,” he answers.

“I liked you more when you were five and refused to talk for six months,” D says.

Pony grins. “You liked me more before I found out about sarcasm.”

“As I said. I miss the times you refused to speak to me.”

Pony smiles. “Keep mooning over the awesomeness of the Killjoys and I might stop again.”

“Is that a promise?”

“A treat,” Pony answers.

D laughs.

Pony likes it when it’s only the two of them, when they can relax for a bit before the next catastrophe is crashing everything. The first few days after a broadcast are always the best. But mostly around day three D gets restless again and starts planning and working on a new message to send out to the people everywhere.

Raise a bit of hell, sing the revolution.

~+~  
Pony is on the way home – to D – when he runs into the Dracs. This zone should’ve been clear for another few days, that’s what D said, that’s why Pony took this route back home and not the longer one. Well, fuck. He is alone and outnumbered and has only one raygun, if they find him, they’ll kill him for sure. Just for the fun of it and that would be the best option really. He doesn’t think people know (exterminators know) that he runs with Doctor D, but they are questioning all zone runners on that topic, so there is really no hope of getting out of this alive and untortured. He takes a deep breath and counts to ten in his head. He needs to stay calm. He’s out of their sight, maybe they won’t discover him. He just has to wait and…

Yeah, no such luck. He runs for cover a few seconds later. Dracs hot on his heels and rayguns firing. Pony hopes someone finds his corps and brings it to D, so D can bury him in the desert. At the outskirts of zone three. He always liked the outskirts of zone three. He hopes D knows that.

~+~  
Surprisingly enough Pony doesn’t die a horrible death yet. He is behind a table in an abandoned diner when he hears the car. And then shouts, gunfire and then silence for a while.

“What the fucking hell?” someone says. “There is nothing here.”

Pony keeps silent. There are a few things tugged neatly under his shirt. Close to his skin. Information Doctor D needs back. Some zone runners don’t care from whom they steal something. It’s not a big family. They are in a pit of wolves. He keeps his breathing quit and listens.

“They must have seen something or someone of worth to come after them,” another voice says.

“Dracs…man,” the first voice answers.

“Someone looked into the building yet?” a third voice says. It sounds kind of flat.

“Uhm…”

“Really? Like really?” the flat voice asks.

“We didn’t have the time between being shot at and shooting, okay?” the first voice says.

“Were you making out while I was being shot at?” the flat voice asks.

“Don’t be ridiculous Kid,” the second voice answers.

“Let’s just get this over with, okay? I’m starving and I don’t want to be here if whatever they wanted is long gone or dead.”

Okay, they don’t sound too dangerous, but you never know with the crazies out here. He steadies the gun in his hands and hopes he doesn’t have to use it. But he will because this is about survival and the greater good – if you believe in it. And you have to believe in something. Besides you can't grow up with Doctor D and his records and not believe in the revolution and that it's a good thing.  
The footsteps make a crunchy noise inside the diner. Slowly, carefully walking on glass and sand. Pony is pressed into the darkest corner behind the table. They might go away if they don’t see or hear him.

“Nothing here,” the first voice says again.

“Hmmm…” Kid answers. There is silence. It stretches. Feels like hours to Pony. “Gee?” It’s soft and questioning.

“Just a moment…can you guys give me a moment?” he asks.

“Sure,” Kid says and then Pony hears footsteps again. Leaving the diner. He knows one of them is still inside. He can hear him lighting a cigarette and inhale.

“Okay, whoever you are. I know you’re here,” he says. Pony doesn’t answer. There is no way he could know. He hears the other person sigh. “You’re bleeding.”

Pony looks down on himself. Well, fuck. He must have cut himself on something and there is a small trail of blood on the floor. Easy to overlook...but, this guy seems to know what he’s doing. He really doesn’t have much choice here, so he gets up carefully and looks at the guy smoking in the middle of the diner. His gun steady in his hand.

“Well, fuck,” he says as he sees Pony. “What are you doing here kid?”

“Was on my way home,” he answers.

The guy looks at him sharply. Pony knows he looks innocent enough, that’s why he isn’t bothered much by zone runners or other people, or bothered a lot by a certain kind of guys. The guy takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Need a ride?” he asks eventually.

“No. I’m okay.”

“It’s no problem,” the guy says.

“I’ve been taught better than that, okay? I don’t take candy from strangers either,” Pony answers firmly.

The guy smiles, a thin smile. It looks amused and a bit dangerous. He takes a last drag from his cigarette and then crushes it under his boot.

“A healthy attitude,” he answers. “I guess it wouldn’t help if I would introduce myself, hmm?”

“Not really, no,” Pony says. The guy nods. “Can I go now or what?”

“Home? To your parents?” It sounds kind of suspicious, but Pony can’t really blame him. Here in the desert everyone is suspicious, it’s what keeps you alive.

“Yeah…”

The guy keeps quite for a bit and then another guy enters the diner.

“Holy shit!” he says.

“Just a kid,” the first guy says, shrugging.

“Who is pointing a gun at you. Are you fucking insane?” he asks. He doesn’t seem really bothered, Pony thinks.

“Is that a trick question?” He grins.

“You need a ride home, kid?” the second guy asks. His hair is big and a total mess.

“He doesn’t take candy from strangers,” the first guy throws in and the second guy laughs.

“Good thing too.”

“Gee, fuck we need to get out of here. You know they will look for these Dracs out there. The dead guys? We killed? You sure remember as it happened just a few minutes ago,” Kid says, entering.  
Pony recognises the voice. “The fuck? We’re still here because of this kid?”

“I just wanna go home,” Pony throws in.

“By all means, just do,” Kid says, stepping aside and dragging Gee with him. The third guy shrugs and steps aside too.

He keeps the gun on them until he’s outside. The car is parked just in front of the diner and he thinks D would like how it looks. Pony takes a deep breath and then he’s running to the bike he left behind a rock and then he’s gone. Leaving all this behind.

~+~  
D looks between worried and pissed off when Pony comes back – it's late.

“Not my fault, got into a fight with Dracs. You know how it goes: they say something, I call them names and make jokes about their moms and before you know it someone is shooting. You said the zone was clear,” he says as he gets off his bike. It's not an accusation, but D looks angry for a moment anyway.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, and I still have the data you wanted,” Pony answers.

D nods and squeezes his hand hard as he takes it. It’s D’s way of a hug. Pony kind of likes it. “I ran into some guys…” Pony says.

“What kind of guys?”

“Zone runners. They didn't introduce themselves, you know? I’m okay, really. Just…they seemed weird, is all.”

“Fuck,” D mutters under his breath. “We really maybe should start to introduce ourselves.”

“Yeah, right. You'll be in jail or dead before you can finish 'defying',” Pony replies.

“Probably...just, sometimes I miss-,” he stops. “Never mind, get in. It's late.”

~+~  
While he was pointing a gun at this guy he wasn’t thinking much about all of it. It was more important to get out there alive and get the data to D. Pony tends to live in the moment, always did, but now he remembers blood red hair. Like Hayley's and he misses her suddenly painfully.

He didn’t think about her for over a year now and this stupid episode brings all these memories of her back. How she smelled and how her breasts felt under his fingertips. Her breathy laugh, her violent pose. The colour of her hair.

Pony punches his pillow and turns to face the wall of the van.

He kind of hates the guy’s guts for that and hopes he never sees him again.

~+~  
Because Pony's l life sucks, or a greater power (he does not believe in) hates him, he sees him again. Pony is not stupid. There aren't that many people with that kind of attitude and blood red hair (like a bloody veil...) blowing shit up and saving children. Fucking Party Poison, fucking honestly.  
So, he runs into Poison a few weeks later purely by accident, because what other way could you run into people anyway.

“You!” Poison says and Pony has his gun out a second later. “No need for that, kid.”

“You can never be too careful,” Pony answers. He doesn't have anything of value on him – except the raygun and people were killed for less. He doesn't really think that Poison will kill him. Killjoys seem to be good-doers.

Poison smiles this half amused, half cruel smile. Pony finds it unnerving. “On your way back home?” he asks.

“No business of yours where I'm going.”

“Hey, I could offer you a ride,” Poison answers.

“No, thanks.”

“Right, you don't take rides from strangers, or candy for that matter.”  
Pony nods.

Poison takes out his pack and lights a cigarette. He doesn't offer Pony one. Pony isn't even sure how he feels about that, on the other side, he doesn't even smoke. D would kill him. Cigarettes are hard to come by in the zones. Especially on the outskirts where he and D are currently living.

“What did you have to do for those?” Pony asks.

Poison looks startled for a second. “None of your business kid,” he answers.

“So, it's killed someone, blown someone or blown shit up.”

“Pick one,” Poison replies, “it's all the same.”

“Really? I usually don't have the same feelings, not even similar, when I'm having sex or kill someone.”

“Well, I'm a sick motherfucker then.”

“And a liar.”

Poison exhales smoke and doesn't answer. Pony refuses to be irritated by his behaviour. First thing you learn in the zones is how to hold a gun, second thing is how to stay calm in the face of certain death. And this here isn't even certain death. It's just some fucker fucking with him. Well, fuck.

“There is something strange about you, kid,” Poison says after a while. (Endless, endless hours of silence).

“Right back at you. For someone who came fresh from Battery City you're adopting pretty well.”

“Who says I'm from the City?”

“You're certainly not from the zones,” Pony replies. He's still holding the gun he realises and puts it away. Poison gives him a look. “Doesn't mean I trust you.”

“I know.” He takes a last drag of is cigarette and throws it onto the sand. “That's actually pretty smart of you. You're parents must be so proud.”

“My dad,” Pony says.

“Your mom dead then?”

“Probably,” Pony replies and wonders what the hell he's doing here talking to this guy. Must be the fucking hair. “Your mask is stupid by the way.”

Poison smiles like he knows exactly why Pony said that. Well, fuck him. “Go home kid, before something bad and big comes along and eats you.”

Pony rolls his eyes and makes to walk past Poison. “I can take care of myself.”

Poison grabs his wrist and pulls. “I'm sure you can.” His breath is mingling with Pony's and he's too fucking close for comfort.

“Don't fucking fuck with me,” he says dangerously low, his raygun out and pointing at Poison's heart – or close enough. Poison smiles, squeezes his wrist so that it nearly hurts and then lets go.

“I'm not,” Poison says, but Pony can hear what he doesn't say: _yet_.

~+~  
It's stupid and Pony hates it. Hates it. He doesn't want this....these stupid, stupid feelings. He punches his pillow in frustration and refuses to touch his dick just because he was dreaming of red hair and cigarette smoke. Also, lips and masks and fingers.

He will not crush on stupid Party Poison he woes to himself.

It's easy, he just has to avoid the guy. Don't talk to him, don’t spend time with him, don't even acknowledge his fucking presents. How hard can that be? Here in the endless desert? With him and D on the run?

Seriously? How hard?

 

Part III: I saw through the words you said to the secrets you've been keeping

 

As colors fill the light  
We look up from the ground  
In fields of paperwhite  
And floating up  
You pass us in the night  
A future gazing out  
A past to overwrite

 

~+~  
By the age of seventeen he sees the Killjoys roughly every six to nine weeks. They are a constant part of Pony's life. Doctor D is so not on the fence about them anymore. Pony is usually irritated when he sees Poison, because Poison just keeps talking, and smirking, and fucking _singing_ the revolution.

It’s unnerving. That’s what it is. He is still not over this whole red hair thing and he tends to avoid Poison whenever he can. It works better than you would think. Mostly Poison is with D in the back talking about something revolutionary or other.

Pony likes to leave them alone while they’re off planning stuff. He likes the 'do what I tell you to do' routine he has going on with D. It's easy and comfortable in some twisted way. Like a worn out blanket.

~+~  
He likes Jet Star a lot. Jet Star is a calm presence in the storm. Pony likes to sit outside in the shadow of an old house or diner or whatever and watch Jet Star fix things. Star is good with his hands and machines. Also people for some reason.

“You don’t like him much, do you?” Jet Star asks one day, he isn’t looking at Pony, but he really doesn’t need to.

“I don’t.” Pony sees no point in lying here. Maybe when word goes around to Poison he will fucking stop smirking like he knows something Pony doesn’t. It's irritating as hell that's what it is and Pony wants it to stop. Better sooner than later. Best right the fuck now.

“He likes you,” Star says.

“He likes kids, and that is suspicious on and in itself, you know.”

Jet Star laughs. “Kid, he is not some pedo-bear.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Pony answers with a smile. Jet Star looks up and smiles back.

“He’s just trying to…” he waves his hand and Pony gives him a look. “Make friends I guess with the kid of his hero.”

“D is his hero?”

“D is everyone’s hero,” Star answers.

Pony shrugs. “You guys don’t seem like people who have heroes, you seem like the kind that are heroes for others. Not me, obviously. I met you guys.”

“Everyone needs heroes, even heroes do.”

Maybe that’s even true Pony thinks and nods like he understands it.

~+~  
Poison is not a guest character in his dreams anymore by the time things start to get serious in the zones and in the city.

The Killjoys are the Enemy Number One (in freaking capitals) and everyone seems to want to have a piece of them. Most of the time no one knows where they are, but they never fail to send D some music, some proof of life. Pony is glad they do. Secretly, but still glad. It’s always worse not knowing if someone is alive or not.

It hurts less thinking about Hayley now. Maybe because he’s too preoccupied to be thinking about her, maybe because someone else is stealing her place in his heart.

He doesn't like to think about it much and he stomps on the tender roots of feelings with determination. If he could he would rip them out and bury them in the sand so that nothing would ever come out of them.

But that is impossible, so he holds on to his plan, his vow, with desperation and makes himself ignore Poison, because even hate is too much of a admittance of feelings.

~+~  
They’re back the night before Pony’s eighteenth birthday. He was fully prepared to get drunk with D and play some music and maybe hangman. He always liked that game and never grew out of it. Maybe it’s because D taught him that words are important. Maybe it’s the familiarity of it all. Maybe it’s because you can play it everywhere and there is plenty of sand in the desert. It doesn't matter, because he sure as hell isn't going to play his favourite game with Party Poison and his merry band of misfits.

“So, I hear you like words?” Poison asks out of the blue. Pony gives D a betrayed look. D has to fucking know that Pony isn't keen on being friends with Poison. He isn't even keen on pretending to be civil for god's sake!

“I like them alright,” Pony answers shortly.

“And there is a lot of sand here.”

“It's the freaking desert,” Pony replies unnerved.

Kid gives him a measured look and Ghoul a death glare. Pony shrugs it off. He is kind of invincible. No one who wants to stay in D's good graze would lay a finger on Pony. He knows it and he usually doesn't abuse it, but something about Poison brings out the worse in him.

“It is. So, you wanna play?” Poison asks.

“Are you any good?”

“I'm alright, but Kid is downright brilliant with words. It used to be his favourite game too when we were kids,” Poison answers and admits for the first time that they are brothers.

It makes something tender uncoil in Pony's stomach.

“Okay, fine. Let's play then.”

To his surprise they are all really good and it does make a lot of fun playing in teams against each other. Pony never had friends that would stick around and he suspects that this is D's way to make him feel what it could be like.

~+~  
Later he sits down next to Star and stares at the stars with him while Jet Star smokes. He hands his cigarette to Pony and Pony hesitates before he takes a careful drag. He keeps it in too long and coughs nearly his lungs out. Star doesn't give him shit for it.

“Not mine,” Pony says when he can breathe again.

Jet Star nods. “Isn't meant to.” Pony doesn't ask where they get their cigarettes from, he doesn't want to know these things nowadays. “We got you something as it's your birthday and all,” he adds, getting something out of the pocket of his jacket. He hands it over and Pony takes the packet carefully.

“Thank you,” he breathes. It's tea, the good kind, he can smell the spices in it even through the carton. “Chai...I thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” Jet Star states like it's something normal for them to do. It isn’t. Good tea is so freaking hard to come by and Chai even more so. He inhales the smell for a few blissful seconds more before the suspicion sets in again.

“This isn’t only because I am running with D, is it?”

“Shut up, Pony. It is not and don't let Poison hear that.”

“I bet he knows I think he's a pedo,” Pony answers, clutching the carton to his chest.

Jet Star inhales and gets up. Sand and dirt clinging to him. “Give him the paper when it's empty, will you?” Star says.

“Sure,” Pony answers and doesn't ask whom Jet Star means. They always, always do stuff for Poison.

~+~  
Party Poison is undoubtedly the leader of the Killjoys, but he is more than that when he's only with them. He is a person and not to be feared. Well, maybe you still should fear him, but the thing is that Pony doesn't. It might be stupid or arrogant or the simple fact that he is untouchable to those who know who he's running with.

Poison teases him whenever he wants to and Pony wants to kick him in the nuts for all the stupid things he keeps saying and all the looks and smirks he throws Pony's way, but he doesn't. The rest of the Killjoys are constantly on the watch and Pony knows no one of them would even hesitate a fraction of a second to take a bullet for him.

They would tear the world apart to get to him if he should get captured. Pony doesn't understand it, not really, but that is only because he doesn't care enough for anyone. Maybe not even for D. D taught him to survive first and mourn later, he doesn't think anyone ever taught that to the Killjoys. They get attached, like Pony did and- he isn't going to think about that now. He learned to live on hook-ups only. Meaningless, but pleasurable. Maybe pleasurable because they were meaningless.  
He inhales the deep rich aroma of his birthday gift and tries not to be...whatever he is feeling right now.

There is no room for feelings in the desert, there is less room in the desert for _tender_ feelings. Feelings that can break you apart, that can hurt you, that can kill you.  
He stares at the carton and wishes for matches to set it on fire.

~+~  
He can't help but watch them. Because there is nothing else to do. Or that is what he likes to tell himself.

By the time he turns nineteen he has a collection of images of the Killjoys. Mostly the hard guys they are. Firing and cursing and raising a bit (or a lot) of hell when they have to. Pony knows that they enjoy it too. Being on the edge of life and death. Feeling everything so much sharper.

Pony sees spilled blood and bruised skin and sometimes he isn't sure the bruises are caused by the enemy of their choice.

There isn't really anything he can base his suspicion at. It's just a feeling, experience maybe.

Proximity.

~+~  
The first raid he's on with the Killjoys happens a bit by accident. They don't have even a real plan. They only have an opportunity. It's enough. Pony is told to stay in the car with Jet Star, because Jet Star can drive like Vin Diesel, apparently, whoever that is. Maybe he should ask D a few questions about pop culture and movies. He just doesn't get the references and it's annoying.

Pony watches as Ghoul gets down and his fingers itch to just grab the handle and open the door to throw himself out of the freaking car.

“Stay. He's alright. He'll be up in a second,” Jet Star says and his voice is firm.

Pony doesn't argue, only watches and waits for them to get into the fucking car so they can get the hell out of here and home. Wherever that is right now for them.

~+~  
The second raid is all planned out and even D approves of the game plan, so Pony doesn't have any objections. He's glad that D allows him to go on raids now. Not often and that's okay too. He isn't one of them, he is him and he and D, they are...well, they _are_. There is nothing else left to say to that. It isn't something Pony tends to spend time on.

He and D are just like the sun is and the desert and the freaking revolution that shaped their lives, shaped them.

~+~  
“You still don't like me, hmm?” Poison asks one day, his shadow falling over Pony's body. Pony opens his eyes carefully and slowly, blinking up at Poison.

“What in god's name might have given me away?” Pony mocks.

Poison smiles down on him. It is irritating that smile: a bit fond, a part cruel and something else Pony doesn't know how to interpret.

“Don't be too hard on yourself. I am a genius like that,” Poison answers because he is just that freaking arrogant. It makes Pony smile nevertheless. “You look pretty when you're smiling,” he says and Pony bites his lip and looks away from Poison's face and blood red hair.

“Why don't you leave me alone?” he asks. He's tired of this game, because it's nothing else and never will be and he needs Poison to stop fucking with him. He needs Poison to stop being nice and try to befriend him, try to be someone who Pony would care about. Pony doesn't want that. He doesn't want to make himself vulnerable, he doesn't want to ever feel like he felt about Hayley, because of Hayley, again. He hates Poison for getting under his skin, for worming his way into Pony's life.

Poison sighs. “Because you don't want me too,” he whispers and the wind picks up in that moment to carry the words away. He can pretend he never even heard them.

~+~  
Sometimes he just wants to go away. Be someone else, be somewhere else or go back to being blissfully unaware of Poison's existence. And Ghouls, for that matter. Pony isn't a stupid kid, he never was a stupid kid to begin with, he knows that something is going on between Ghoul and Poison, something that maybe isn't love, but sometimes, in a certain light, it could pass for just that.  
He really doesn't get why Poison is insisting to play with him, to fuck with his mind like that when he has Ghoul.

“You know,” Kid says and it's pretty fucking rare that Kid says anything at all, “he always liked pretty things.”

“You think Ghoul is pretty?” Pony asks.

Kid laughs, it's a weird nearly silent laugh, but it's full of amusement. Pony kinda likes it. “It doesn't matter if I think that he's pretty.”

“Oh, right, Poison needs to think that.” He nods in understanding.

Kid lights a cigarette and hands it over to Pony. Pony shakes his head

“Hmm, so you really don't smoke,” it's not a question, so Pony keeps quiet. “I do think that Ghoul is pretty,” he adds on an exhale and Pony wants to tell Kid that he finds Kid pretty.

“ _You_ are pretty,” Poison says from above them. His voice soft and full of something.

Kid leans his head back so he can look at his brother. He blows out smoke and smiles. “You're pretty nice to look at yourself,” he answers and Poison laughs. He laughs only like that when he's around Kid, like Kid is the only reason to laugh, to eat, to sleep, stay awake, to breathe, to fucking _live_.

It's creepy and wonderful and makes Pony ache for something.

~+~  
It's raid number fifteen that goes so horribly wrong that he and Doctor D have to split up. He ends up in the back of the Trans Am between Ghoul and Jet Star.

He feels like he can't breathe at all.

He doesn't want to be here. And he really does want to be here. He needs to be close to Poison and Kid and Jet Star. Even Ghoul.

He's kind of really deep into it now. There is no way back and he is stranded anyway. Not left behind, never left behind.

“You better buckle up, kid,” Jet Star says beside him and he sees Poison grin in the mirror.

This is going to be a wild ride and uncomfortable and maybe life changing. He doesn't want- well, whatever. He will take it as it comes.

“Bring it,” he answers and it comes out more secure than he feels. Poison hits the gas like the crazy person he is.

~end~


End file.
